Next day the serious business of trading commenced at the outpost.
“I should like to get that powder and ball before you begin to trade with the Indians, Mr Grant,” said Jasper, after breakfast was concluded, “I’m anxious to be off as soon as possible.”
“No, no, Jasper, I’ll not give you a single charge of powder or an ounce of lead this day. You must spend another night with me, my man; I have not had half my talk out with you. You have no need to hurry, for Marie does not know you are coming, so of course she can’t be impatient.”
Mr Grant said this with a laugh, for he knew the state of Jasper’s heart, and understood why he was so anxious to hasten away.
“Besides,” continued the fur-trader, “Mr Heywood has not half finished the drawing of my fort, which he began yesterday, and I want him to make me a copy of it.”
“I shall be delighted to do so,” said the artist, who was busily engaged in arranging his brushes and colours.
“Well, well,” cried Jasper. “I suppose I must submit. I fancy you have no objection to stop here another day, Arrowhead?”
The Indian nodded gravely, as he squatted down on the floor and began to fill his pipe.
“That’s settled, then,” said Jasper, “so I’ll go with you to the store, if you’ll allow me.”
“With all my heart,” replied the fur-trader, who forthwith led the way to the store, followed by the Indians with their packs of furs.